The Recovery
Dalet continued to visit the sick boy for days after that. Weeks even. And the boy seemed to really be enjoying his company.
Dalet would sit for hours at the bedside, speaking, explaining life on the Vione, stroking his the boy's hair or holding his hand in a comforting way. And it never mattered to him that he never got a response.
Even the nurses got to know Dalet because he would spend so much time in the hospital. The truth was, Dalet felt slightly responsible for the young hostage, though he couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was just pity.
That didn't mean that the other Dragonslayers didn't come to see him though! The boy got many visits. Even Folken came to see him once or twice, though he never stayed long, and spent more time talking about the boy's recovery with the nurses than with the boy himself.
In truth, the boy was recovering quite well, no slower than what was predicted for him, but no faster either.
Then came the day, during one of Dalet's many visits, that the boy was able to gather enough strength to sit up, though he still had some trouble moving his limbs.
"It won't be too much longer until he will be ready to move to your ship," said one of the nurses to Dalet.
"That's good," replied Dalet, "I'm sure Lord Dilandau is looking forward to setting off again, he really hasn't been too happy about being rooted here for so long."
The nurse laughed bitterly. Dalet knew that she would much rather have the poor boy live here than send off again with someone like Dilandau.
The nurse set down a platter of food that she had been carrying, and left.
Dalet supposed the food was for the boy, so he picked up the tray and set it on the captive's lap.
The boy picked up a spoon from the tray, and, dipping it into a bowl of soup set out for him, set the spoon to his lips.
Dalet watched. He wasn't jealous, he wasn't hungry at all, but he was happy. Happy that the boy could finally move and eat by himself, and not have to rely on that strange I.V. tube to eat for him.
Just then though, the boy stopped eating. He set down his spoon, and, not being able to lift the heavy bowl, gently pushed it in his direction.
Dalet looked at the boy in wonder, then he understood.
"No," he said, "that food is for you."
The boy continued to look at Dalet, palms outstreched. Then, he lay back down on his pillow, and ate no more.
"Are you sure you're full?" asked Dalet, concerned, "You didn't eat very much."
The boy nodded and closed his eyes. Well, one eye, as far as Dalet could see, as the other one was still covered with the thick eyepatch.
Dalet stood up. Stroking the boy's head softly (he had already fallen asleep), he turned and left quietly.
He met Guimel just outside the door.
"If you're going to go in," Dalet began, "you'll have to be very quiet, he just went to sleep."
Guimel laughed quietly.
"He sure seems to sleep a lot, doesn't he?" he replied.
"Of course," said Dalet, "He has to regain his strength and energy."
Guimel's face turned hard.
"Definently," he said, "Especially if he is to be under Lord Dilandau's command."
Dalet nodded thoughtfully. He then turned and began to walk down the hall.
Guimel followed.
"I'll visit him tomorrow, when he's awake. Or rather, I'll visit him with you, as you always seem to catch him when he's awake!"
Dalet laughed.
* * *
One afternoon about a week later, Dalet was once again on his way to visit the injured boy in the hospital. However, when he opened the door to the room, it was empty. Not just plain empty though, it had been cleaned up and everything!
Dalet ran quickly back to the Vione, looking for Folken. He gave orders. If anyone would know where the boy was, it would be Folken.
About halfway to Folken's room, he stopped short. There were two nurses coming his way.
"Excuse me," began Dalet, but they didn't see him.
Dalet kept running, the boy had to be on the ship. Then it hit him.
Of course! he thought. Cameron's room!
He turned a corner and ran towards the former Dragonslayer's room. Once there, breathing hard, he opened the door.
There he was, just as Dalet suspected, sleeping soundly, still wrapped in bandages.
How cute he looks! Thought Dalet, and how peaceful!
He turned, and left, listening to the soft sound of the boy's breath, and the roar of the engines as the ship took off once again.
Dalet continued to visit the sick boy for days after that. Weeks even. And the boy seemed to really be enjoying his company.
Dalet would sit for hours at the bedside, speaking, explaining life on the Vione, stroking his the boy's hair or holding his hand in a comforting way. And it never mattered to him that he never got a response.
Even the nurses got to know Dalet because he would spend so much time in the hospital. The truth was, Dalet felt slightly responsible for the young hostage, though he couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was just pity.
That didn't mean that the other Dragonslayers didn't come to see him though! The boy got many visits. Even Folken came to see him once or twice, though he never stayed long, and spent more time talking about the boy's recovery with the nurses than with the boy himself.
In truth, the boy was recovering quite well, no slower than what was predicted for him, but no faster either.
Then came the day, during one of Dalet's many visits, that the boy was able to gather enough strength to sit up, though he still had some trouble moving his limbs.
"It won't be too much longer until he will be ready to move to your ship," said one of the nurses to Dalet.
"That's good," replied Dalet, "I'm sure Lord Dilandau is looking forward to setting off again, he really hasn't been too happy about being rooted here for so long."
The nurse laughed bitterly. Dalet knew that she would much rather have the poor boy live here than send off again with someone like Dilandau.
The nurse set down a platter of food that she had been carrying, and left.
Dalet supposed the food was for the boy, so he picked up the tray and set it on the captive's lap.
The boy picked up a spoon from the tray, and, dipping it into a bowl of soup set out for him, set the spoon to his lips.
Dalet watched. He wasn't jealous, he wasn't hungry at all, but he was happy. Happy that the boy could finally move and eat by himself, and not have to rely on that strange I.V. tube to eat for him.
Just then though, the boy stopped eating. He set down his spoon, and, not being able to lift the heavy bowl, gently pushed it in his direction.
Dalet looked at the boy in wonder, then he understood.
"No," he said, "that food is for you."
The boy continued to look at Dalet, palms outstreched. Then, he lay back down on his pillow, and ate no more.
"Are you sure you're full?" asked Dalet, concerned, "You didn't eat very much."
The boy nodded and closed his eyes. Well, one eye, as far as Dalet could see, as the other one was still covered with the thick eyepatch.
Dalet stood up. Stroking the boy's head softly (he had already fallen asleep), he turned and left quietly.
He met Guimel just outside the door.
"If you're going to go in," Dalet began, "you'll have to be very quiet, he just went to sleep."
Guimel laughed quietly.
"He sure seems to sleep a lot, doesn't he?" he replied.
"Of course," said Dalet, "He has to regain his strength and energy."
Guimel's face turned hard.
"Definently," he said, "Especially if he is to be under Lord Dilandau's command."
Dalet nodded thoughtfully. He then turned and began to walk down the hall.
Guimel followed.
"I'll visit him tomorrow, when he's awake. Or rather, I'll visit him with you, as you always seem to catch him when he's awake!"
Dalet laughed.
* * *
One afternoon about a week later, Dalet was once again on his way to visit the injured boy in the hospital. However, when he opened the door to the room, it was empty. Not just plain empty though, it had been cleaned up and everything!
Dalet ran quickly back to the Vione, looking for Folken. He gave orders. If anyone would know where the boy was, it would be Folken.
About halfway to Folken's room, he stopped short. There were two nurses coming his way.
"Excuse me," began Dalet, but they didn't see him.
Dalet kept running, the boy had to be on the ship. Then it hit him.
Of course! he thought. Cameron's room!
He turned a corner and ran towards the former Dragonslayer's room. Once there, breathing hard, he opened the door.
There he was, just as Dalet suspected, sleeping soundly, still wrapped in bandages.
How cute he looks! Thought Dalet, and how peaceful!
He turned, and left, listening to the soft sound of the boy's breath, and the roar of the engines as the ship took off once again.